No Contest
by thepuppiesinpink
Summary: Elizabeth is worried that Henry won't find her sexy anymore. He assures her that that is not the case.


A/N: We've hit 300 stories! Way to go, fandom!

I've considered adding smut to this, but for now I decided against it. I might change my mind if enough people want it, though.

* * *

Elizabeth stood staring at her dresser drawer. It was filled with lacy negligees and lingerie that normally kept her in touch with her adventurous and flirty side, but now it seemed to be mocking her. The strappy, skimpy confections would do nothing to hide that her body wasn't as svelte as it used to be. In fact, these garments would make it painstakingly obvious that stretch marks and sags marred the pale skin of her middle.

* * *

 _"Damn. Look at the ass on that one."_

 _"Right? They have fun tempting us."_

 _"Ain't that the truth!"_

 _Two men stood in business suits in the west wing of the White House waiting for their meeting with a speechwriter. They were appraising the interns who passed them._

 _"You ever thought of getting you one of them?"_

 _"Long term, you mean?"_

 _"Yeah. You ever thought of paying off your wife so you could get a piece of that tight ass?"_

 _"Every day of my life."_

 _"Your wife is Cynthia, right?"_

 _"That's right."_

 _"She's kept herself up better than Kim has. You're lucky. Kim just doesn't care anymore."_

 _"She still put out, though?"_

 _"I think she knows she's not sexy anymore, so she's not interested. She'll let me sometimes, but it's a rarity."_

 _"I'm sorry, man. Maybe you should get you one of them young things."_

 _"I keep thinking about it..."_

 _Elizabeth fumed. These men were sexist, chauvinistic, shallow, and uncouth. She had half a mind to confront them about the comments she had overheard, but she had a meeting to get to._

 _Later in the day, though, she started thinking. She had noticed her body slowing down and aging since she had taken the position as Secretary of State. Her chin now had a much softer look, and it seemed there was a new wrinkle around her eyes every time she looked. It hadn't really bothered her, but now a seed had been planted in her mind, and it was beginning to take root._

 _Henry would never cheat on her with an intern, but it made her wonder if men were hard wired to think only about how attractive a woman was. She didn't want Henry to stay with her because he felt obligated. She didn't want him to sleep with her just because he wanted to get off. Did he really find her sexy? Was she still sexy?_

* * *

All these questions rolled around her mind as she stood that evening looking down at her lingerie drawer. Did she have any business wearing these outfits? Why would Henry want to see a woman over fifty pretending to be sexy?

"You deciding what you're gonna wear for me tonight?" Henry teased from the doorway.

Having not noticed Henry watching her, she slammed the drawer in surprise and embarrassment.

"Not everything is about you, you know." Elizabeth threw the words at him tersely.

Henry could see the tension in her body. Her posture radiated defensiveness.

"Babe, you okay?"

"I'm fine. Let's go to bed."

Henry held back a sigh. 'Fine' _never_ meant fine.

"I could make you feel better..." He softly approached her and reached to knead the muscles in her shoulders, hoping to alleviate both her tension and her sour mood. When he reached down to give her bottom a soft pinch, letting her know of his intentions for the night, Elizabeth jumped away from him.

"Stop it, Henry!" She yelled, whirling to face him. Tears threatened to spill from the corners of her eyes. She tried to blink them away, hoping Henry wouldn't notice.

"Elizabeth, what's wrong?"

He did notice.

"Nothing's wrong. Why does something have to be wrong? Does it hurt your ego to think that there might occasionally be one person in the world who doesn't want to sleep with you?"

Henry absorbed the insult. He could tell she was hurting. He just didn't know what caused it.

"Baby, you can turn me down all you want, but this is out of the ordinary for you. It's not about sex. I want to know what's wrong. Let me help. Please."

He opened his arms to her and she surprised herself by willingly throwing herself at him. She wanted his comfort, even if part of her conscious mind was keeping a distance. Her arms wrapped tightly around him, and she felt him reciprocate her firm hold. She buried her face in his shoulder.

"Oh God, Henry..." Tears started to fall large and hot from her eyes. She trusted Henry to hold her together while she fell apart.

"I'm here, babe." He knew there had been more to it than her simply not being in the mood for sex. "It's okay. It's all okay." He smoothed her hair down as he spoke.

Elizabeth heard the words coming from his mouth but couldn't believe them. He said it was okay, but all she could think about were the extra rolls of skin that bunched up around her middle when she bent over. Could Henry see those? Feel them? Her body would betray her if Henry saw it completely. It would make him lose his love for her.

"It's _not_ okay. I can't..." She pried herself away from him to keep him from noticing the imperfections in her body. She wanted his comfort, but she also didn't want Henry examining her too closely. Her arms wrapped around her torso, trying to give herself the comfort she needed, but to no avail. She needed the comfort of her husband, but she was too upset to accept it, and nothing else would suffice.

Henry stood still, stunned. His wife had thrown hurled herself into his arms and then just as violently wrenched herself away. He was simultaneously confused and concerned.

"Talk to me, baby. What's wrong? Please let me help." He was getting worried. This behavior was completely out of the ordinary for his normally easygoing wife.

"I can't bear for you to touch me. Please don't make me..." Elizabeth's voice was timid as she stood facing Henry with her arms still wrapped around her body.

He held up his hands, as if trying to soothe a flighty thoroughbred. "I'm not going to make you do anything. I promise. I just want you to tell me why you're so upset. I want to help."

"You can't help. It's all my fault," she whispered through her tears.

"What's your fault?"

"I'm not... I'm not attractive anymore. I look old..."

It finally clicked for Henry.

"You're worried that I won't want to sleep with you because you're not twenty-five anymore?" His tone was incredulous, and his face registered his shock.

"Not just sleep with me..."

"You think I'm going to _leave_ you because you're not twenty-five?"

"Well... No. But..."

"Elizabeth, this isn't like you. Where's this coming from? I love you, _and_ I love your body. I don't want some twenty-something with big boobs. I want my wife who loves me and knows me and cares for me and has been through everything with me. That's you, babe. No one can replace you."

He held out his arms in offering to her.

Again, Elizabeth let herself fall into her husband's arms, tears still streaming. "Are you sure?" She looked up at him with wide eyes.

"Of course I'm sure." He kissed the tip of her nose affectionately. He thought to himself that he had only wanted a nice evening with his wife, and it had turned into a big production. He wanted to know who was responsible for his wife's distress and his denied sex.

"Now how did you get that into your head? Hmm?" He gently smoothed her hair and held her to him, cradling her head tenderly, hoping his gentle touches could assuage the last of her fears.

She sniffed, trying to slow her tears. She didn't want to tell him. It felt stupid. She shook her head silently where it was buried against his neck.

"Come on, sweetheart. It's okay."

She gathered her courage. "I heard these guys at the White House talking about the interns being attractive. One asked the other if he'd ever thought about leaving his wife for one of the interns... And he said 'every day.'"

Henry held her tighter to his chest. "Babe, that guy is insane. He doesn't understand what is so wonderful about being married to the same person all your life. There is no way I could trade you in for a newer model. I don't need a pair of breasts. I need the woman who has loved me for thirty years. I couldn't replace you, baby, even if I wanted to. I'd be lost without you. Unlike that imbecile, I'm smart enough to know when I have everything I've ever wanted." He spoke the words into her hair because she was still hiding her face from him.

His sincerity took her breath away, and she took a few moments to gather her composure. She breathed in the scent of his aftershave, nuzzling against the smooth, but still slightly stubbly, skin of his jaw. His strong arms held her securely, and his chest felt warm and solid. She knew he could have easily held her up if he needed to. Yet at the same time she felt that he was her support that allowed her to stand on her own. He stood firm, giving her the foundation she needed without pushing. His even, steady presence calmed her mind and body.

"You're sure?" She felt better now, so she was able to tease him a little. "The interns are pretty cute..." She flashed him a mischievous smile.

Henry groaned. "They're younger than Stevie!"

"That doesn't turn you on? The idea of having a young, flexible, innocent little coed in your bed?" She began to tickle the base of his neck.

Henry could feel himself begin to get aroused. "You're playing with fire, there. Watch that you don't get burned."

"Maybe I'm willing to risk it..." She leaned up to whisper in his ear, darting her tongue out to torment his earlobe.

"Yeah?" Henry wanted to make sure she was ready.

"You're sure you aren't going to trade me in for an innocent little intern?" Her tone was light, but she wanted his reassurance.

"See, those girls have no experience or skill. I need a woman like you who has spent years refining her craft and technique."

"Yeah?" She echoed him.

"Mmhmm. No contest."


End file.
